


Out of the Frying Pan

by EvilOtter



Series: Time Tumbles [3]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29086830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilOtter/pseuds/EvilOtter
Summary: I thought that it was all behind me, that the Games were in my past but all of that changed when the Quarter Quell changes were announced.
Series: Time Tumbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555012
Comments: 15
Kudos: 1





	1. Ch. 01

**Author's Note:**

> Due to a major life event my attentions are being drawn back to home. Therefore this story is being put on an indefinite hiatus. I have no idea how long this will be as the situation is going to eat a lot of time.
> 
> evilotter
> 
> 3-8-2021

The dreams are there again and in them lies a confusing montage of images

Images of a time in my life that I would just as soon forget. What is most maddening is that my mind simply refuses to shuffle these thoughts and memories off into a corner of my psyche where they are harder to recall.

They’re over, I remind myself, the Games are over and having won them I know that I do not have to worry about them again. Yet everywhere I look I see constant reminders of the permanent scars that they have left.

Coriolanus Snow has insured himself a forever place in my thoughts.

There are no physical scars on me, of course, the total skin polish that I was given upon my return to the Capitol made certain to leave the visible portion of me flawless. They couldn’t possibly have a bruised, cut and battered winner on public view for all of the citizens of Panem to see.

The Victor’s House that I occupy is all of the memory of that time in my life that I really desire. It is leagues above the house that I had lived in for most of my life and is quite comfortable. I can look out through the windows and see other houses occupied by those that have defeated the odds to win.

No, I remind myself, not win, no one ever really wins the Games. They merely do something that the other tributes that they had faced could not. They had survived and even that comes at a terrible cost.

I look up at the ceiling of my bedroom as I think about the years since the Sixty-seventh Hunger Games had come to an end.

So much has changed and I am reminded of this as the greatest and most memorable change enters my room to crawl up onto the bed beside me. I lift the bed covers to allow her to slide in next to me.

“Good morning Sunshine,” I whisper before giving her a kiss on the nose. “How is my girl?”

She smiles as she wipes my kiss from her skin and then offers me a kiss that I gladly accept. I don’t attempt or even think about wiping her affection off.

“Did you sleep good?” I ask as I hug her tightly

“Uh huh,” she answers with a smile while also vigorously nodding her head.

I kiss the top of my daughter’s head as I gaze at my three year old prize. Easily the most valuable thing that I have in my life, she is also the thing that comes the closest to making me forget about the arena and what happened there.

The arena, something that I am reminded of every year around this time and every time that I approach the graveyard to visit her grandmother’s resting place.

I should feel secure but I don’t. My Games are over and only a terrible memory now, I am too old for the Reaping and she is still far too young. The Capitol does not select three year olds for the Games, so I have nine years before I need to worry. The Eighty-third Hunger Games are still a long time away.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I ask my child.

“Eggs,” she responds, once again making me feel grateful of my status. As a Victor I do not have to worry about the food supply for my child and me. At least she will never need to worry about having to take Tesserae.

I smile as I ruffle her hair and then rise to walk downstairs to my kitchen, followed closely by a small bundle of energy, who clutches her favorite doll tightly.

The kitchen is already brightly lit with sunlight and I pull a skillet from where it is stored to place it on the stove. A basket of eggs waits for me in what passes for a cooling device and three are soon cracked to be scrambled.

She will leave plenty when she is finished and that will feed me. Blue eyes watch my every move and I wonder if I appeared as she does when I was watching my own mother prepare a meal. She looks so much like me that there is no way that I can deny that she is my daughter.

Not that I would want to anyway.

Like me she is growing up without the presence of a father. Unlike mine, however, her father has an excuse for not being present in the life of his child. He had been killed by the bite of one of the extremely lethal snakes that live in the grain fields. What saddened me the most about his passing was the fact that he never knew that he was going to be a father.

My own father is alive and well and more than likely drunk in HIS Victor’s House.

I had only learned that he was my father at the time that I was trying to survive my Games. Only as my Mentor had Arniss Mitt been any true influence or support in my life. It was because of this that I hadn’t allowed him to be much a part in the life of my child.

He had held onto too many bad habits.

Any other part of my life would have been fine with this vice of his. Certainly he had seen enough during his time in the arena to justify the need to try any chance at all of forgetting. Perhaps, if not for the birth of my daughter, I might have gone the same route as he had.

Remembering to be certain to cook her eggs precisely the way that she likes them is one of the few memories that I consciously want to hang onto. After scraping the finished eggs onto a plate, I cross the room to find the person that now controls my life waiting for her breakfast. I settle down onto a chair next to her and watch as she digs in.

I wonder, as I watch her, how many times my own mother had done the same thing while I ate. Certainly food is much more plentiful in this house than it had been in my childhood home. Here and now I do not have to face the fact that my child and I might be forced to go hungry.

A state that I was more than familiar with as I grew up.

A glance out through the window makes me wonder about the coming Reaping. Whose son and daughter would be selected this year when Melli Searson dips her fingers into those bowls and then draws forth the slips of paper that held someone’s future?

As I watch her eat I consider that one day I shall hold my breath while she waits during the Reaping. As the daughter of a Victor she is very unlikely to have to need to take Tesserae. She, hopefully, will get through the years that she is subject to the selection without hearing her name called.

She finished what she wants as I rise to put the tea pot onto a burner. Receiving a smile as she finishes her milk I shake my head as I deliver a smile of my own.

I settle back down at the table as I think about the Hunger Games of the year before this one. It had been Games unlike any before them as they had seen TWO winners. The tributes from District Twelve had managed to survive and had dealt a huge embarrassment to the Capitol.

Everyone knew that President Coriolanus Snow had been extremely angry about what they had done. The idea that they had threatened to commit suicide as a pair and on camera had thrown the Gamemakers into a frenzy because a winner was needed.

In the end they had gotten away with it and had gotten to go home, the head Gamemaker has mysteriously vanished and the Capitol had sulked. It had been shown up by a pair of tributes from District Twelve.

The Reaping this year is only days away and I relax, secure in the knowledge that all is well.

Abruptly I hear the sounds of someone knocking on my front door. I am torn between answering this summons at my door instead of the one coming from the whistling teapot.

I rise and hurry to lift the vessel from the stove before hurrying to answer the increasingly frantic knocking.

Swinging the door open I find a woman, who I know is a fellow Victor, but have never really spoken to. She had won the Games years before my own birth and now stands before me with worry evident on her face.

“Jessa, I know that we have never really met but I wondered if you had heard.”

“Heard what?” I answer as I begin to become alarmed.

“The Capitol and President Snow,” she exclaims, “have ordered a special Reaping for this year’s Quarter Quell.”

“Special Reaping?” I respond as a shadow of fear creeps into me.

“They have announced that the selections this year will be made from the ranks of each district’s Victors! You, I, anyone living who was a Victor from District Nine, is eligible for this year’s Reaping.”

“But we won our Games, I thought that we were safe from the selections. They can’t do this to us,” I continue as anger begins to surface and tries to crowd out the fear. “Why play the Games with the idea that if you win you are safe after that only to have them change the rules?”

“That’s what everyone thought, but we suspect that the stunt that the pair from Twelve pulled last year with the Nightlock berries caused this.”

I think back once again to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The girl had had every chance to kill the boy but had not done so. She had dropped her weapon and they had used the threat of mutual suicide on camera as well as the greed of the Capitol, to make a statement. It was a statement that was now threatening the lives of anyone who had played the Games by the rules and managed to survive.

“My Games are over,” I state, “I have a small daughter. I can’t play again. What would happen to her if I got selected and didn’t survive to come back?”

“No one thinks that it is fair,” she responds, “but it is our skin on the line again. I’m sorry to bring bad new but I thought that you should know.”

She turns away and starts to leave before stopping and turning back to me.

“Jessa, I pray that the odds will be in your favor.”

I nod silently and then watch as she walks away. A sudden small impact at my legs makes me look down at the three year old girl that is looking up at me with a broad smile.

“Mommy!” she exclaims before I bend down to scoop her into my arms. I rise to stand and hold her while I adore her. While I hold her tightly fear fills me like it never has before in my life.

As much as she is my life, I know that I am the most important person in hers. She cannot hope to survive without me anymore than I could do so without her. I kiss her gently while hugging her as tears fill my eyes. This does not go unnoticed by her.

“Mommy sad?”

“Yes, Sunshine, Mommy is sad.”

I kiss her again before I notice a figure approaching my front gate. It is only when they get close enough that I recognize my father, Arniss Mitt. He approaches me while I hold his grandchild tightly in my arms.

“I guess that you have already heard,” he states quickly.

“They can’t do this to us.”

“That’s what everyone in every district is likely saying, but they are.”

“But it’s not fair. We won our Games! I have a child to think about because she certainly cannot care for herself.”

I hold my breath as he reaches out to run fingers over blonde curls. This is only the second or third time that he has ever been this close to my child and the only time that he has ever touched her.

“She’s beautiful, Jessa. Just like you were at this age.”

“I’m surprised that you can remember that.”

He recoils slightly at this and I feel a tinge of remorse about what I had said. Had it not been for him I would have not survived my Games. I would be laying in the graveyard not far from Mother while my body rotted.

I wonder if they would have sent my headband with me or if it would have been on display somewhere.

“Jessa, I sincerely hope that they do not select you for the Games.”

“Thank you, Arniss.”

“She _is_ beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

He turns and walks away and I watch as my child follows his departure with her eyes. Her hand comes up and she waves at his receding back.

“Bye, bye.”

I push the door closed before retreating to my living room, the teapot an irrelevant memory. Holding her gently I bury my nose in her hair as tears leave my eyes while I settle down into a chair. Sensing my sorrow she looks up at me.

“I love you, Mommy,”

“And I love you, Tessa.”

She receives a tight squeeze and settles against me, instinctively knowing that I both desire and need her presence.

A good part of the morning is spent in this situation while I do my best not to transfer my fear to her. Our position is only changed when I am informed of her needs.

“I gotta go potty.”

She climbs free and then hurries to leave to attend to what she needs to do and this interruption gives me time to think.

_‘There are only two female tributes that are still living. That gives me a fifty-fifty chance of being the one that is selected. What happens to Tessa if I am picked and don’t come back? Whose home does she get shuffled off to? What will it be like for her to grow up wondering why I had to leave her? How will she deal with all of this? What will she be told about me? What memories of me will she have?’_

I rise from the chair as she reenters the room to hurry to the front door. Following her, I step out of my home and watch as she hurries past me to play in the yard. She is the only child in Victor’s Village and I know that she will likely have to leave this behind if I am chosen to go.

My daughter will be forced to leave a great deal behind if I am chosen and do not manage to win a second time. She is the one that needs the odds to be in her favor. If I am gone she has a much less certain and secure future.

Watching her play in the yard wild thoughts, terrifying actually, fill my mind. On the day of the Reaping I cannot refuse to go to the ceremony, they would send the Peacekeepers to drag me to the square. If I am selected I cannot refuse to go up onto the stage to be herded away, the Peacekeepers would none too gently escort me to where I needed to be.

The only outs that I have are the possibility of my neighbor volunteering as a tribute, not likely, or leaving the district before that day.

This idea is terrifying because I have seen firsthand what happens to those who attempt to escape Reaping day. They are invariably caught and dragged back to the square to first have a public meeting with the whipping post and then to be put onto the train for the Capitol. By attempting to escape selection they automatically bypass it to become a tribute. Without many exceptions they do not do well and normally die in the initial bloodbath.

Not something that I wish for Tessa to witness and remember me for.

As I sit on my front steps my attention shifts abruptly from my thoughts and I see Tessa pointing at something in the sky.

“Mommy, look.”

With growing dread, because I know what is making the increasing loud sound that is reverberating through the air, I turn my head to look at what she has seen.

A Capitol hovercraft has arrived and is preparing to land in the square. No doubt they are here to begin setting up for the “special” Reaping. Swiftly it drops from sight as the rumble that it is producing begins to dissipate and I know that it is landing.

Soon Melli Searson and uncertainty will reenter my life.

Tessa regains my attention by suddenly giggling as she points at something in the tree in my yard.

Abruptly I hear a rough imitation of her giggle and know that she has spotted a Mockingjay. These birds, while annoying to many adults, amuse children. Soon enough she will be old enough to imitate them when she decides to repeat what her mother is saying, sometimes during an embarrassing moment.

Somehow, after today, I am looking forward to it.

She returns to her play while I think about something else. Soon I will begin to think about what to feed her for dinner. Before that she will have a light snack before taking the nap that she dislikes intensely.

Another way that is like I was at her age.

Occasionally she leaves what she is doing to reward me with three year old affection before going back to her play. I wonder if I and my mother had done the same things when I was three. She had much more to worry about than I do but I decide that she had somehow found the time to do just what I am. The world is right at the moment, I can see my child and she can see me and the day of the Reaping is not today.

But it will come soon enough.

The remainder of the day goes as it should. A mid-day meal followed by a nap for her. I catch a moment of rest before setting about my housework. There is not much and I finish them quickly before scrambling some eggs for myself as well as brewing some tea.

The thought of having to return to the arena bothers me. I had put the memories of the lives that I had taken into the back of my mind as best as I could. This had bothered me a great deal and the nightmares about them were only just receding. I could still see very clearly the faces of those whose lives I had ended and dread the dreams in which they take part.

My meal finished, I rise to do what dishes that I have before I set about finishing the cleaning of my home. There is not much to do and I smile as I peek into a bedroom to see my child sleeping. As always I wonder if my eyelashes had seemed as long as her do when she is asleep.

I pull the door to the room that she occupies closed quietly.

Quickly I finish my work and then walk to a room that I rarely visit and that she never has, the locked door has ensured that. The closed door to a cabinet hides the Victor’s crown that I had won and that Coriolanus Snow had placed upon my head during the ceremony in the Capitol. It is a crown that I have not looked at since the day that it was placed in its prison after I had gotten home at the conclusion of my Victory Tour. It is a memory maker that I could happily do without.

Other than this piece of furniture room has nothing to attract attention.

Satisfied that all is well I step out of the room. It does not need any more attention or thought than what I have given it.

My circuit of my home brings me back to the kitchen and, in the cooler, the chicken that will feed my daughter and me tonight. Already prepared for its date with the oven it is soon in the pot surrounded by vegetables from my garden. A few wild onions, contraband really, join it and I turn to place the vessel into my oven.

Very soon it will perfume this part of my home and give the two of us something to look forward to.

As dinner cooks my diminutive ruler awakes and we spend the time together. Each of us gives much of our self to the other and we enjoy the time that we spend in this activity.

Dinner is another wonderful time, her lively chatter entrancing and I don’t want it to end. We will follow this time with a bath, something that we both enjoy as we relax together in the warm water.

Soon enough she will grow up enough that these times together will end and I will be forced to consign these moments of closeness to memory.

As long as I am alive to see them.

Too soon, dinner is over and my ball of energy has been bathed, dried off, dressed in her nightgown and then tucked into bed by an equally exhausted parent.

My world shrinks perceptibly with her absence, even those she is only yards away in another room of the house, and I detest this. It gives me an excess of time to replay the past in my mind. This is something that I hate to do, unless I am reliving Tessa’s arrival in my life.

I finally give up trying to read the ancient book that I possess. My eyes ache, my head hurts and my mind is full of thoughts.

While I do not wish for her death, she has never done anything to me, I hope with all of my might that it is my neighbor’s name that I hear called on Reaping day.

I finally make my way to the bed where Tessa, forsaking her own bed, is already taking her share out of the middle. Sliding into my nightclothes I soon join her and soon am asleep with my nose buried in her hair.

In the Capitol a tech scans District Nine intently. Thus far he has seen no sign of Jessa Peaston. The home that the woman would occupy in Victor’s Village is certainly in use. Jessa Peaston is obviously there but was it the Jessa Peaston that he needed?

When the copy was accidently Tumbled out of control she could have landed here, in the District Nine that he was examining now.

She was here, but was it her? Was this the right young woman?

As he thought about this he wondered if two of the same people could exist in the same place at the same time. Was it possible?

He stared at the readings that his console was giving him while comparing them to the ones that had resulted from the accident. They were similar, but not identical, and he had to wonder if they were similar enough.

Only time would tell.


	2. Ch. 02

I awake on the morning of the Reaping full of fear. Today is the day. This is the morning when, at eleven o’clock, the populace of the district will gather to watch which pair of the two present will be selected.

Tessa will join a couple that I know and trust, possibly forever, as I take my place in an area that I never imagined that I would ever occupy again.

My daughter and I eat a big breakfast before I dress for the day and what my come. I watch my blonde haired wonder while she deals damage to the meal in front of her. She is so full of energy that I wonder how she can possess it, how her small body can contain it all. Vaguely I remember Mama saying the same thing about me.

I do not doubt that she will say the same thing about her own children when the time comes. I hope that I will be alive to see my grandchildren and hear her parental comments.

I suddenly hear the low mournful wail of the siren that calls all to the square for the spectacle that is to come.

“Come on, Sunshine, we need to go to the square with everyone else.”

“Kay!” she responds as she hops down from the chair. I look around the room and nod with satisfaction. If I am chosen I have some things other than my life to fight for.

I want to return to see my child grow.

We walk quietly, her hand in mine, the distance to the square. Every step is torture for me as it takes me that much closer to having to hand Tessa over to someone else, possibly forever.

The square appears and with it I am joined by the friend that will watch over my daughter.

“I’ll take good care of her until you get back,” she reassures me.

“Thank you.”

“Jessa, I would volunteer to if they would let me.”

“I know.”

I lift Tessa up into my arms and hug her tightly while those around us watch. They all get to see the pain inflicted by our separation.

“You be a good girl, okay?”

“Kay, Mommy.”

“Mommy might have to go away for a while, Tessa. I need you to be a good girl. You need to be a big girl too.”

“Kay, Mommy.”

“I love you more than anything, Tessa. You remember that, Mommy loves you more than anything.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

I hug her tightly and then kiss her on the forehead and receive a kiss back before handing her over to my friend. A Peacekeeper appears next to me, ready to take me by the arm, but a fierce stare from me gives him pause.

I kiss Tessa again and then turn to walk, with tears in my eyes, to where I will check in.

“I love you, Mommy.”

The sudden small voice makes my step falter. Somehow, as the tears running down my face grow in number, I manage to continue until I arrive where I am required to be.

A moment later I relive another old memory as a drop of my blood is placed onto the page next to my name. I walk from there to join my neighbor as we wait for what is to come.

“Good luck,” she stammers.

“Same to you,” I answer with resolve as Melli appears on the stage.

The years may not have been kind to Melli but one would not be able to tell it. The heavy makeup is the same as it always was every year. Her wigs had not changed either, always being some flamboyant color.

Abruptly the anthem starts and then the somber monotone voice that accompanies it while we watch graphic scenes of violence. But this year it is different, this year we watch scenes of our own actions in our own Games. As I watch this I hope that my friend is making certain that Tessa is being shielded from seeing what her mother is capable of.

When the music, voice and scenes of carnage end Melli steps forward to gaze at the balls that contain only two slips of paper each. I watch with growing dread as she quietly reaches down into the ball containing the names of my companion and I.

A moment later a slip of paper rises from the ball and Melli slowly opens it to read the name. Her eyes rise from it and I know which name she is going to call.

And there is nothing that I can do about it. My daughter, my dear Tessa, may very soon become an orphan.

“Jessa Peaston!”

I hear my name announced and my eyes shut tightly to fight back the tears that want to escape from them. I start to lurch forward and have taken only two steps when an unexpected voice stuns the crowd.

“NO!” the voice cries out. “No, take me! I volunteer as tribute!”

Stunned, I stop in my tracks as a hand drops onto my shoulder. I turn expecting to see a Peacekeeper there to urge me forward, but instead I see a very different face.

My neighbor, whose name I really do not know, looks into my eyes before speaking quickly.

“Get out of here, Jessa. Go to your baby, she needs you!”

“Thank you, Miriam,” I manage to stammer as her first name comes to me.

We might have said more to each other but a Peacekeeper is suddenly there to hustle her to the stage while Melli blusters about a volunteer.

I don’t hear any of this, I am too busy scanning the crowd for my friend and my child. 

Abruptly I hear the male name called.

“Andritch Jorgensen!”

I turn to see a man, slightly younger than Miriam, slowly walk to the stage. They are there for a moment, waving to us, and then they vanish into the Justice Building.

This is lost on me as I race towards the crowd that is beginning to disperse back to their homes while a smaller group slowly makes its way towards the stage, family members of the tributes. I watch them for a moment and then turn my attention back to the crowd. There is only one person on my mind and my heart nearly when I suddenly see her above the heads of the departing mass. She is sitting on shoulders and I race to her to take her into my arms once again.

She comes to me without pause and I clutch her tightly as I sob.

“Mommy sad,” she whimpers, ready to cry as well.

I look into solemn blue eyes and then shake my head.

“No, Tessa, Mommy is not sad. Mommy is crying happy tears. Mommy is happy that she does not have to go away and leave you.”

She hugs me tightly and I kiss her gently before I thank my friend. We are about to leave the square when I suddenly turn to walk to the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers stationed outside the door do nothing to hinder me as I open the door to step inside.

Memories of this place flood back to me as I approach a Peacekeeper that is standing in the hall.

“What do you need?” he asks roughly.

“I wanted to see Miriam. I wanted to thank her again.”

“Her family is in there with her. Personally I think that, if I were you, I would make myself scarce. They aren’t happy that she volunteered to save your skin. Come to think of it, I’m not happy with it either. I wanted to see someone take your head off of your shoulders!”

I recoil from his response and then quietly walk away to leave the building. While I had not expected a cheerful greeting I certainly had not anticipated what I had been given. Clutching my daughter tightly, I hurry away from the square along with the remainder of the rapidly dispersing population of the district.

As I walk back towards my home I am uncomfortably aware of the looks that I am getting from some of the other people. My benefactor had lived here in the district for many years after winning her Games. She had, in fact, lived her long enough to have married, borne children and watched them grow and then seen the births of grandchildren. Even though I too am native to District Nine she has many years on me, having lived in Victor’s Village since before my birth.

I hurry back to my home and close the door behind me. While I am extremely grateful to Miriam for the sacrifice that she has made I am worried about what will happen should she die in the Games.

What will her family do if this happens? What will their reaction be? Would they go so far as to put Tessa in danger?”

All of this worries me and this worry spurs me into action.

Once Tessa has had her snack and is down for her nap I set about preparing a pack with the things that we would need should events turn violent. While I have no desire to abandon this house I need to be prepared to keep my child safe.

As I work at my task training that I received both before and during my Games comes into play. The important things vanish into my pack, a box of matches and hatchet among them. Next supplies to treat injuries and remedies for illness take their places. A water bottle for each of us as well as Iodine precedes a pan to cook in. Extra clothing, blankets and knives follow it in its path.

I work quietly until the task is complete with the only picture that I have of Mama and many of Tessa being included.

Somehow I have the feeling that I, and my small daughter, will soon be playing our own version of the Games. The only difference is that they will be no victor crowned at the end, only survivors.

These opponents, however, will not face a frightened, confused and unprepared fourteen year old girl. They will encounter a tested woman that is intent on protecting her child and who will kill without thought of mercy. I do not care what they think of me but if they threaten Tessa they are going to regret it.

I am all but finished when I hear a forceful knocking at my front door. Ready for a confrontation I walk to it and then jerk it open to see Arniss waiting for me to respond. The look on his face tells me what I have already guessed.

“You already know what is going to happen, don’t you?”

“They’re furious that she volunteered and plan to come after me if something happens to her.”

“Yeah,” he answers, “and they’re not alone. Geoff’s family has said that they plan to join them. I wouldn’t count on the Peacekeepers for much help either. From what I have heard they are wagering on who is going to kill you and how.”

“And what about Tessa? What are they going to do to her?”

“I haven’t heard anything about her. I would guess that she is probably safe, but they are going to try to hunt you down if Miriam dies.”

“You know that I won’t let that happen. A lot of them are going to die.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Whatever I have to, Arniss.”

“You aren’t planning to go through the fence are you?

I pause before answering his question.

“Arniss, I don’t want to involve you by telling you anymore than I already have.”

“The Peacekeepers will be called in if you leave the district. They will hunt you down and you know that they will enjoy doing it, especially if the catch you alive.”

I nod my understanding but he knows that my mind is made up.

“I don’t suppose that there is anything that I can say that will change your mind, is there?”

“No, Arniss, there isn’t.”

“Would you consider leaving Tessa with someone here?”

“No,” I answer sharply, “they would find her and use her as a hostage to bring me in. She’s safer with me, regardless of what happens.”

“I had to ask.”

“I know.”

Now it is his turn to pause and I see the pain, and the beginnings of tears, in his face before he speaks.

“I may not have acted like it before, but I care about both of you.”

Again I nod before answering.

“I think that I knew that all along and I am sorry for the way that I have treated you.”

He steps forward to take me into his arms and we embrace for a moment before he releases me. For the first real time in my life I look at him as my father, the grandfather of my daughter.

Arniss smiles at me weakly and then we part ways as he turns to walk back to his own home. He gets only a few paces down my front walk before he turns.

“Take care of yourself and Tessa.”

I nod quietly as I watch him turn once again to walk away. Closing the door I turn back into my home for a moment before leaning back against the door with my face in my hands. A realization comes to me with full force.

Very soon I will likely have to leave this home to go on the run and during my flight I may very well have to kill people that I have known for years, some for my entire life. I cry softly at this thought but know I must shield my distress from my child.

She may see too much anyway.

A disturbance gets my attention and I walk to a window to peer out. Several people have gathered outside Miriam’s house and are laying bunches of flowers on her front doorstep. A large sign proclaiming their love for her has been placed in the yard and I watch as they turn as a group to give the three finger salute.

As touching as this is, and as much as I would like to join them, I sense a dark undercurrent. Many of the people cast hateful glares towards my home and I do not doubt that, if not for the ever present Peacekeepers, they would like to storm my house. Visions of it burning down around Tessa and I fill my mind.

I am playing the Hunger Games even though I am not on my way to the Capitol.

Finally I can breathe a sigh of relief as the crowd is urged none too gently to move on peacefully by the Peacekeepers. A number of the group seem to hesitate to follow the directions of the Peacekeepers only to receive orders from the officer in charge to move on or face the whipping post. 

Given this motivation the remainder of the crowd finally leaves the area. I notice a quartet of Peacekeepers lagging behind and finally understand that they have been ordered to remain to ensure the peace. My home is safe for the moment, but that safety is contingent on the survival of my neighbor.

As much as I doubt it, given her kindly appearance, I can only hope that Miriam is a killing machine. 

As improbable as it seems I have seen it happen, a tribute that all have counted on as dead meat suddenly killing opponents without mercy. Vaguely I remember a person such as this winning. I was young at the time but I remember it clearly.

My attention is gained by the movement into the room by a small person. A sleepy little girl comes to me and is swiftly gathered into my arms. Fears for her well-being fill me as I look into blue eyes. I kiss her gently on the forehead and she gives me one of the smiles that I so look forward to.

“We may be going on a little trip, Tessa.”

She gives me a quizzical glance as her young mind takes in what her mother has just told her. 

I clutch her tightly as I wonder what the future has in store for us. What will the days ahead of us bring? Certainly Miriam will survive the days of training but what will come after that?

I know that if she can survive the bloodbath at the Cornucopia that her odds will improve. During these first chaotic moments everyone, including the Careers, has only a fifty-fifty chance of living through it. This, what I remember seeing and hearing, is what kills the most tributes. Their Games come to an end before they have even really began.

Still holding Tessa tightly I walk to a chair in my living room where I settle down with her. Our life has changed so dramatically and swiftly that I cannot believe that it has happened. We sit there together for a while until she frees herself to engage in her carefree play. I watch for a while as I pray that what may come does not scar her too badly.

In the control room the tech watches the footage once again. Before his eyes the Reaping in District Nine takes place time after time.

Clearly the Jessa Peaston that is supposed to be there is, but is the OTHER woman there? Was the replica that they had been preparing for the Tumble somewhere in the time that he was watching?

So little was known about what they were engaged in doing. No one really understood what might happen if two of the same person were in the same time and happened to encounter each other.

Already they had started to eliminate other times as the accidental landing place of the copy. It was terribly difficult work and it crawled at a snail’s pace. This is what worried him the most, the slow speed at which the investigation was progressing was sooner or later going to irritate President Snow.

Time was working against the tech, it was not his friend. The searches were taking too much of it, President Snow wasn’t going to give him much more of it and sooner or later he was going to run out of it.

Neither time nor the odds were in his favor.

With this in mind he turned his thoughts back to the task at hand and the small pill that was concealed in his pocket.

He wondered at which point in time he was going to decide to use it.


	3. Ch. 03

As the next few hours go by I find myself dreading what is coming. While it is true that the mob which had formed outside of Miriam’s home, and mine, had been forced to move on by the Peacekeepers I know that they will likely not gone far. They will be back, I am certain of it, and I have prepared for this probability.

A sling has been prepared, actually long ago before any of this had happened and a number of stones had been gathered. I also have an old broom handle that is ready for close in attacks when, and I know that it will happen, they make entry into my home.

I really have no desire to harm or even kill people that I have known for years. If it had been only me within the house I would not have gone to the lengths that I have. But Tessa cannot defend herself and I cannot, as much as I would like to, rely on them to be merciful with her.

More than likely she would be used to draw me out so that they could finish me. I do not want to think about what they would do to my daughter once they had done what they wanted to.

As I sit quietly after feeding, bathing and putting my child to bed noise draws my attention to the screen on the wall of the room. I watch as the Parade of the Tributes begins and am struck by the differences in age.

While there are several tributes that are young, the pair from District Twelve among them, there are also quite a number that are older. One woman, who is tiny, frail and grey, stands out. Certainly she has to be one of the first winners of the Games. Games that are many decades in the past.

This angers me.

She should have been, like all of us who managed to survive the games, allowed to rest in safety for the remainder of her days. Instead she faces probable death for it is very likely that she will succumb early in the Quarter Quell, perhaps in the first minutes after the gong.

My heart falters as I see the chariot for District Nine appear. Miriam stands proudly, her head held high but one can tell by a look at her eyes that she is extremely frightened. It had been a number of years, even before my birth, since she had competed last. Against younger, faster and stronger people she really is at a disadvantage.

I watch as the chariots do their funeral procession and that really is what it appears to be. At the end of this year’s sacrifice twenty three of these people will be dead, unless District Twelve’s tributes repeat their plot from the Games from last year. People who should have been safe, immune from the Reaping, will be forced to compete once again.

My blood churns with anger as I see the chariot from District Twelve. Katniss and Peeta, the “star-crossed lovers” who had done the unthinkable. They had both survived the Games and, in doing so, had humiliated and angered the Capitol. More to the point, they had likely infuriated President Coriolanus Snow. There were many who said that to do that was a certain way to bring down his wrath.

“I hope that they are the first to die in the Bloodbath,” I mutter to myself. I am mindful though that my child may appear without warning and do not wish for her to hear me speak in such away.

The chariots come to their customary stop in front of the mansion and then Snow appears to speak. I do my best to breathe calmly as I listen to what he has to say.

As he speaks I realize that my heart is beating as swiftly as it had when I was in a chariot awaiting what amounted to a sentence of death. His speech never varies much and always ends the same way.

“May the odds be ever in your favor!”

I wince at these words and then watch as the chariots begin their slow return back the way that they had come. For a moment I wonder if Pietor is still the stylist for District Nine. He had been an interesting part of the preparations and I had, although not at that particular moment, enjoyed the interaction with him.

The spectacle ended, the screen goes dark and I can then turn away from it, but not the ominous memories. I know that, at that very moment, the tributes were having their costumes removed and were being prepared for the trip to the Tribute Center.

Tomorrow their training would begin. The next three days would fly for them and then we would see them in the interview with Caesar Flickerman. Once that ordeal was over we would see them next in the arena. I wonder idly what it would be like this year, shuddering as I remember what I had faced and the lives that I had ended.

Sometimes my dreams would be composed entirely of seeing the deaths that I had caused. Geoff’s death bothered me more than most because I had actually known him before the Games. He had been, albeit only distantly, a part of my life for the first fourteen years of it.

I can still see his dying eyes whenever I close my own.

Turning off my lamp I quietly make my way to my bedroom only to find that a small interloper has decided, once again, that my bed is more comfortable than her own. I slip into bed close to her and she responds by snuggling next to me. My nose dips into her blonde tresses as I kiss her gently.

Thankfully there are no dreams that night, only something far worse.

I have no idea how much time has passed when I am awakened by a noise. Carefully opening my eyes I scan the room while also reaching for the staff that lays on the floor next to the bed. The sound is repeated followed by the light crash of something fragile breaking and a muffled curse. This tells me that what I had feared was now happening.

Someone, possibly more than one, has entered my home. This is all that I need to know that my time in this house is at an end. But before I can abandon my home I need to assure that my child is safe.

Rising quietly and grasping the staff tightly I move towards the door before peeking around the corner. I see nothing but my ears tell me that someone is ascending the stairs while attempting to be stealthy. They are failing miserably at this and giving me the time and advantage that I need.

One thing working for them is that, because all of the Victor’s Houses are identical in layout, they will have a good idea where the bedrooms are. While the darkness will hinder them and help me I know that I am very likely in for a fight.

Slipping out into the hallway I can hear voices. This means that there are at least two intruders.

“Do we take care of both her and the kid?”

“I don’t want to hurt a little kid if I don’t have to. The Peacekeepers won’t look as hard at it if she dies as they would a little girl.”

The creak of a stair tells me their approximate location and I turn slightly to pick up a bag of Tessa’s blocks that always before this moment seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I wonder for a moment if they will enjoy playing with them in the dark.

I grip the bag as I approach the rail and, as the first shadowy figure appears at the top of the stairs, hurl the wooden playthings past them to clatter on the steps in a random and hazardous pattern. This noise gets the attention of the second figure and he turns in that direction to determine what has happened. But it is the first person that truly has something to be concerned about.

He is just beginning to look in that direction as well when I charge towards him from the darkness. My opponent starts to shout a warning when I lash out with my staff. With no time to dodge, or really even duck under, the attack he takes the impact across his face. The force of the blow spins him crazily and he pitches headlong over the rail to crash to the floor below, flattening a small hall table that is in his path.

The second person, his attention gained by the sounds of his companion taking a death dive, turns back towards me and charges up the stairs. He is almost to me when I lash out with the staff once more. Staggered and dazed by the glancing blow that he has received he stumbles back down the stairs only to encounter Tessa’s blocks. One of them causes the inevitable and he tumbles down the stairs.

I know that he is not out of the fight and am preparing for him when a shrill scream of terror gets my attention. Whirling, I charge back into my bedroom to see a strange man clutching Tessa tightly to prevent me from reaching him with an attack. I see a glint of light on the blade that he holds to her throat.

“If you want me to open her throat go ahead and try something! I’ll take her head completely off!”

Stunned, and terrified, by the turn in the situation I drop the staff to the floor.

“Now, kick it away unless you want to see the inside of her throat!”

“Please don’t hurt her.”

“That all depends on you, now kick it away!”

I reach out with my foot to kick the staff towards him and then look into the terrified eyes of my daughter.

“It’s going to be okay, Tessa,” I assure her before turning my gaze to him. “I’ve done what you wanted, now let her go.”

He looks down at my little girl and nods before setting her down onto her feet. Before she can run to me, however, he reaches down to grab her shoulder.

“Get onto your knees, Peaston,” he snarls as his companion enters the room behind me.

“She killed Caleb, hit him with her staff and he went over the rail,” the man announces.

“You killed my little brother?” Tessa’s assailant growls. “I might just go ahead and make you watch while I gut your kid!”

“Please,” I plead, “don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he announces, “I’m going to kill her while you watch.”

He is about to say something more when the man at the door makes a strange sound before collapsing onto his face. A hatchet protrudes from his back and Tessa’s antagonist is just starting to understand what is happening when another noise breaks the silence.

The slight noise ends as a thrown knife embeds itself in his chest. He releases Tessa long enough to allow me to lunge at him. We collide and the impact throws him backwards onto the bed. I rain blow after blow upon him before throwing my full weight down across his torso, shoving the knife deep into his chest. He coughs loudly and then falls limp.

Rising from the corpse I turn to see a person in the doorway. Only when my mind clears enough for me to see them clearly do I recognize them. It is Arniss Mitt, my father and the grandfather of my child.

“You need to get out of here, Jessa,” he almost shouts. “There’s a mob headed this way and they aren’t paying attention to the Peacekeepers. If you’re still here when they find the bodies there won’t be any chance for you or Tessa. They’ll kill both of you and they’ll take their time when they do it.”

A glance out through the window of the room shows a number of glowing torches headed towards my home. Swiftly I gather my prepared pack, my staff and my daughter.

“Thank you, Arniss.”

“Just go, Jessa, they’ll loot this place and then burn it to the ground.”

Nodding quietly I grab one last thing of importance, Tessa’s favorite doll.

“Arniss …” I begin as I look into his eyes.

“There’s no time, Jessa! None of us can be here when that mob arrives. You and Tessa, hell all of us, need to find someplace safe.”

“I know where to…”

“Don’t tell me, Jessa, I don’t want to know in case they catch up with me,” he answers as he pulls his knife from the dead man’s chest to join the hatchet that he has already reclaimed. “It’s better that I don’t know where you went.”

Nodding silently, and with tears running down my face, I step forward to hug my father.

“Take care of yourself and my granddaughter,” he whispers.

“Be careful,” I answer as I lift Tessa into my arms.

We part and then hurry out of my house. As I make my way across the field behind it I refuse to take a last look back. It, like the Games, is now a part of my past although I am very certain that it will not revisit me in the future.

Keeping to the shadows while carrying a child that is beginning to fall asleep once again, I do my best to make progress while avoiding detection. Behind me, although I do not see it, my home is being looted. During this activity the crowd discovers the remains of the three intruders and this serves only to anger them more.

It is not long before I can smell smoke in the air and I know that the ruined remains of my home are burning brightly. It will be only a smoking charred shell when daylight comes. All that I will miss from it are the memories made during the birth and life of my daughter.

I hurry on through the night, following landmarks that even now are recognizable. Long before this time I had planned escape for Tessa and I and had mentally mapped my route.

My planned route takes me past the fences and into land that was forbidden for the citizens of District Nine to be in. A person caught beyond the fences and in the area that is my intended destination is brutally punished at the whipping post, sometimes to death. I have seen this occur and it was not pleasant to watch as the Peacekeeper meting out the punishment made certain that the death of the unfortunate was long in coming.

Ahead of me and due south are large areas where no one lives and almost no one goes. West is out of the question because Districts One and Two, as well as the Capitol, lie there. East is not much better for this is the home of District Three.

North is inviting for this is wild country, a place not under the thumb of the Capitol. There Tessa and I could live in freedom but it means a long trek across Nine. No matter where I go I am taking a huge risk, both with my life and Tessa’s.

As I walk further and further from home I realize that I must get to some sort of cover before daylight. Already a glow is beginning in the East and this means that any Capitol ships could spot us. Trees a distance ahead of me offer the best chance of sanctuary.

The thought that I also cannot count on gifts from sympathetic sponsors fills my mind. There will be no parachutes containing antidotes for snake bites or bandages for injuries other that what I have brought with me.

Tessa shifts in my grasp making me aware of what I already knew. I am going to move slower with her accompanying me. There was no way around this fact, but there was no way that I would have left her behind to face potential danger. She is the most precious thing that I can call mine and far more of a prize than anything that the Capitol could ever award me.

Adjusting her, I walk on at a steady pace, everything that I learned in the arena coming back to me.

A defendable shelter that has access to water is the most important thing. I can hunt food and there are a number of plants growing in the area that are edible. This makes me grateful for the things that I had grabbed from my kitchen, a pot and plates as well as other things. These will make life much more bearable.

I also have flint and steel for starting fires. This is important as are the water purifying drops that wait in my pack. Three water bottles, already filled, ride in my burden as well.

The tree line is reached as the sun begins to rise in the sky. Reluctantly I look back to see not one, but two, columns of dark smoke rising into the sky. Obviously Arniss is also on the run for I cannot see why the mob would have destroyed the homes of the still training tributes.

As I walk I wonder if the members of the mob have considered who they face should they encounter either Arniss or myself.

While I will be at a disadvantage should Tessa be with me during an encounter her presence will also incite me to be a fearless as well as ruthless opponent. An attacker facing me while also threatening my child will very likely have decided how they wish to die. I will have no mercy if someone puts her well-being at risk.

Tessa opens her eyes to look into mine and gives me the sweet, sleepy smile that I am so used to seeing and I hug her tightly. I watch as she looks around at our surroundings with wide eyes.

“Good morning,” I whisper.

“I wanna go home,” she announces, not certain that she appreciates the change in our location.

“We can’t go home, Tessa,” I answer, “there are bad people there. Mommy brought you here to keep you safe. She brought someone else to make sure that you’re okay.”

I put her down briefly and she watches with anticipation as I reach into the pack to pull the doll out. Seeing this favorite toy she reaches for it eagerly and I smile as she hugs it tightly.

As we have the chance to do so, we relax as we eat breakfast. She has calmed down and this gives me a chance to take in our surroundings.

We are on the very outskirts of what obviously had been part of a very large town or a city. Battered buildings stand here and there, many looking to be on the verge of collapse. Several, however, appear to be capable of offering temporary shelter. My eyes settle on one that is taller than most. This gives me the idea that perhaps, if it is safe to do so, I could enter it to make my way to an upper level to survey the surroundings. 

Perhaps Tessa and I could stay long enough to get some rest before moving on.

Tessa growls a bit, still exhausted, about Mom wanting to get moving again. She has had something to eat and dealt with other necessary business. Before moving on I strip her quickly to change her out of her pajamas. She giggles happily at being naked and darts away from me fir a brief game of catch me if you can. Soon enough she is captured and returned to our camp to be dressed.

“Let’s go, Sunshine,” I say to her as I hold her tightly to look into bright blue eyes. “We don’t have much farther to go. Mommy wants to check out that big building.”

After shouldering my pack I reach down to grab a small hand and we begin our journey to the building that I want to explore.

In the Capitol the technician smiles grimly as he eliminates a possible timeline. Obviously the missing copy of Peaston was not there.

One timeline that intrigued him stood out as a possibility. Within it two Victor’s Homes were burning after a tribute had volunteered to take the place of another. The family members of the volunteer had been outraged and now had begun to form a nearly rabid mob.

He shook his head and, not for the first time, gently fingered the tiny lump in his breast pocket. It might still be needed.


	4. Ch. 04

I cannot think of a stranger dream. Of all of the dreams that I have had in my short life the one that I just experienced beats them all. Dreaming that you are falling through nothingness is unsettling at best and terrifying at worst. The only comforting part of the entire experience was waking up whole and unharmed.

The tattered, and extremely thin, blanket around me refuses to stop the rain that is obviously falling outside and coming through the pitiful remains of the roof of my home. This is a familiar experience but just where am I?

The structure around me is the one that I have grown up in, the one that Mama died in and the one where I have spent many hungry hours in. But somehow something is different.

Climbing out of bed I walk slowly to the glassless window to peer out into the torrent that is coming down. Certainly I do not wish to go out there but I know that I must. It is the day of the annual Reaping and, unless I want to be automatically chosen to represent the district, I need to hurry with my preparations and travel.

A glance at the already overflowing bathtub which is catching a nearly constant stream of cold rainwater tells me that bathing is futile. Drying off afterwards would be even more so. I can see that anyone stepping out into the downpour would be drenched to the skin immediately.

I am puzzled, however, by the lack of activity outside. Surely I have not overslept on Reaping day, the Peacekeepers would be here by now and likely knocking the flimsy door off of its rusty hinges to get inside.

Not that this would take much, the ramshackle barrier is only just hanging in place.

I hurry to get into the little decent clothing that I have and then rush out into the sheets of rain that are pummeling the area. The cold water makes me gasp as it strikes me and I can only just see the way before me. Stumbling as I run down a familiar path towards the Justice Building I am increasingly alarmed by the lack of traffic.

Clearly I will arrive just in time to be seized and then rushed up onto the stage after “volunteering” as a tribute for the Games. When I arrive, however, nothing could prepare me for what I find.

And what I find is nothing. Only an empty square which is devoid of people, no Reaping taking place, no weeping families, no Peacekeepers herding the new tributes into the building to board the train.

Nothing.

Confused, and a bit alarmed, I turn around and walk back through the rain towards my hovel. All of this morning has been out of the ordinary and my mind struggles to make sense of it all.

A sense of urgency, that I need to hurry home, comes over me and I break into a run down the rain soaked path only to stumble THROUGH something that I cannot see. Some invisible barrier surrounds me for a moment before I arrive at my home and I fall onto my face as it releases me.

When I raise my head to look around my eyes widen with alarm. The reality of what is going on is clouded with impossibility and I wonder if I am going mad.

The ground under me is parched and it is quite obvious that there has been no rain here recently. My clothing is also dry and I struggle to understand it. Abruptly hands reach down to help me to my feet and I realize that there are people standing around me.

“Be careful, young lady,” the man who has helped me up says. “You could have hurt yourself with the nasty spill that you took.”

“Thanks,” I manage to stutter while nearly recoiling in shock.

I know these people, almost all of them, but what has happened to them? All of them, the children especially, seem to have aged years.

They are looking at me strangely as well. They stare at me as though they are seeing a ghost, something that cannot possibly be.

Unnerved by the experience I race away from the scene leaving clearly dumbfounded citizens behind. As quickly as I move away I cannot help but overhear some of the comments that they are making.

“Did you see that girl?”

“Yeah, I did, she looked just like… But I didn’t know that she had any family other than her kid.”

“She has to be related somehow.”

I hurry away on a direct course for home, leaving them and their comments behind me. My mind is swimming with confusion. Just what is going on? I KNOW these people but how have they aged so much since the last time that I saw them?

All that I want right now is to get home so that I can gather my thoughts. As I run for home I am uncomfortably conscious of the fact that I have the attention of everyone that I encounter. And they all have the same reaction to me that those where I had fallen had expressed.

I round a large barn to reach home and suddenly stop in my tracks. My mouth drops open, I am certain, as my eyes widen in disbelief of what they are seeing.

Where my home had been only this morning, the house that I had awakened in only an hour or so ago, there is nothing. There is no smoldering wreckage after a fire or heap of collapsed lumber, there is simply nothing to mark that it had ever been. Only tall weeds stand where my home had stood.

As I stand there I become aware of the fact that the crowd has followed me and is watching me as I look at the empty space. It is an eerie feeling and I want to get away from that place and the stares that they are giving me as quickly as I can.

Escape is the only thing that my fourteen year old mind can grasp at that moment. Before any of them can get close enough to touch me I dart swiftly to the nearby trees, which are much more thickly grown than they had been only an hour before.

My sudden, and apparently unexpected, flight towards freedom gives me the chance to put needed distance between myself and the group of people that I suddenly fear. Surprised shouts sound behind me and I clearly hear one of them call my name although the tone that is used to do this is not a friendly one that I would willingly respond to.

This alone encourages me to vanish before I can be captured. Behind me I can hear the sounds of at least one person chasing me. Obviously it is a man because I can hear him cursing loudly as he trips and stumbles over obstacles that my smaller size and lighter weight allow me to avoid.

Knowing that I must lose this pursuit, and unfortunately deal with a person that I know well, I frantically search for a place where I can duck into cover without being seen by him. As if by magic such a place appears and I take advantage of the chance to vanish by ducking down into brush once I am out of his sight. 

Again I hear him curse and call my name, but something in his voice tells me not to respond.

While I wait my hand brushes against a hefty fallen branch. This is what I need and, feeling guilty as I do, I prepare to use it against this man. A man whose daughter I have played with frequently as we grew up.

He is close now, I can hear that he has slowed and is more thoroughly searching for me in the underbrush. Very soon he will be upon me and I lift my weapon in preparation to strike.

“Where are you?” he shouts. “When I find you I’m going to wring your scrawny neck!”

Scarcely daring to even breathe for fear that he will hear it, I ready myself for what I know that I must do. Even though I still do not know why.

A branch near me moves and I hear his harsh breathing a moment before he appears in front of me and I lash out with my weapon. He sees me an instant too late before he catches the swung branch across the middle. The impact doubles him over to receive the second attack which strikes him in the face.

He is thrown backwards to land among the tall weeds and underbrush but I do not wait to see if he is well. Clutching my savior I rush onward deeper into the trees knowing that at some point I will encounter the fence that keeps us confined to the district. Although it is electrified one can readily find a way over it or, in my case, under it.

Behind me I can hear an angry shout of discovery and I know that my downed opponent has been found. What this means is that the pursuit will be renewed, probably by more than just one person. This makes escape all the more imperative because I know that I cannot hope to fight off more than one person at a time.

Against more than one I am as good as dead.

The brush ahead of me is growing thicker which is both good and bad. It will make it easier for me to hide and be harder to see. The bad part is that it will do the same for whoever is chasing me. If any of them are ahead of me I would not be able to see them until we were very close to each other. By that time, unless I was either ready or very lucky, I would be at a severe disadvantage.

Knowing what is behind me and not wanting to wait for it to get any closer, I hurry to vanish from any view of me that my pursuers might have. As I walk I try to avoid leaving a trackable path behind me. It would not do to make it easy for them to find me. The fact that I am moving slowly to avoid detection also means that not much progress is being made to put distance between us. If they decide to rush recklessly into the brush they have a very good chance of finding me quickly. Then it would be a matter of who would prevail in the ensuing contest.

I am making a small amount of progress when movement ahead of me catches my attention. The creature ahead of me and which has made the movement is nearly three feet in length, its coloring helping it to blend in with its surroundings. Past knowledge of snakes tells me to give it as much space as I can and I carefully move away while also keeping an eye out for more of its kind.

Only when I have achieved a safe distance from it do I continue on my way. The snakes where I am are highly venomous and a bite is nearly always fatal. A person such as myself, alone and away from a knowledgeable person in care of snakebites, might as well lay down and wait to die.

Now on the alert as much to the danger ahead and around me as I am to the menace from behind, I do my best to make haste while also staying safe.

Behind me I can hear to sounds of larger people crashing through the brush, making much noise and drawing attention. A sudden shout of alarm as well as a cry of pain and panic tells me that the serpent, or one of his kind, has given someone cause for concern.

I continue forward knowing that this happening will slow them down. The afflicted person, and at least one other, will be forced to return to the town with the hope of getting there before it is too late.

Ahead of me I can faintly hear the sound of moving water and this gives me hope. I know that just beyond this shallow, but fast moving, river is a quick path to freedom. There is a narrow, but not often used, bridge over it and once on the other side only a few hours walk to the border fence.

Beyond that I have no idea of what lies ahead of me. Will I walk into a vast and deserted wasteland or will I encounter other people? If I do will they be friendly or hostile? Will I have entered something worse than what I am leaving behind? Will I in fact be playing a much more terrifying version of the Games than the one that the Capitol demands?

The sounds behind me have lessened in frequency and volume which makes me believe that the people from the district have abandoned the chase. Likely they will believe that a scrawny fourteen year old girl will have only a ghost of a chance of survival. At least two of them did not fare well during the chase and surely I will have no better luck.

I walk on, slowly putting distance between myself and those that might still follow. Finally the bridge appears and I carefully edge my way across it. It seems sturdy enough but I have no desire to find out otherwise. A fall into the current had every indication of not being pleasant, especially given the number of jagged looking rocks that protrude from the surface.

Only when I am safely across do I resume my previous pace. Occasional bushes which still bear edible fruit offer nourishment for me and I am grateful for the fact that a small and clear pool had allowed me the water that I need.

It is nighttime when I arrive at the fence and I carefully slide under it, reminded of its lethal nature by the desiccated remains of a man that had failed to pass it safely. The gruesome corpse could easily have been removed by the Peacekeepers but likely it had been left there as a warning to others who might try to slip out of the district. With the danger passed I continue on doggedly.

The hours and miles pass slowly and I finally find myself standing before a sight that I could not imagined or believed had I not seen it with my own eyes.

A large town, or perhaps even a city, sprawls before me in an abject state of ruin and decay. Toppled and flattened structures are crowded together in their sad state. Some structures still rise into the sky but the slant of many tells me that I do not want to trust entering, or even being near, them.

Here and there I seen signs of movement that are too small and quick to be people. This is encouraging because it means that food might be easily obtained.

Slowly and cautiously I make my way into the out laying areas while occasionally stopping to pick up small stones. My headband makes a usable sling when needed for hunting or defense.

Before me is an eerie scene as I pass long abandoned structures that must have once been dwellings. They line each side of the road that I am on and, even in the state that they are in, I am in awe. I am stunned that the smallest of them are easily as large as the best houses back in the district. Glass fills some of the windows even after years of abandonment and neglect. I am quite certain that even now they are in better shape than the shack that I had grown up in.

This thought reminds me of the bewildering experience back in the district, especially when home was nowhere to be seen and it appeared that nothing had stood where it had been for years. The differences in my neighbors, people that I had seen and even talked to only hours before and that I had known all of my life, also had me puzzled. It was almost as though a number of years had passed in just over an hour.

The response of the people in the district to me was what concerned me the most. Why had they responded to me as though they were furious with me? The man that I had laid low with the branch often had been generous enough to prevent my starvation by giving me whatever he could. But as he sought me in the undergrowth he had vocally threatened to kill me.

All of this has me shaking. I shake my head to clear my mind as best as I can before deciding that these structures might still be capable of offering shelter. Certainly I need to avoid those that are without roofs or that appear ready to collapse.

I also want to move farther into the city. Staying in this area leaves me closer to any potential pursuit from the district. The last thing that I need is to wake with some of my former neighbors standing over me. Likely they would leave my body to rot in the ruins of wherever they found me. It was doubtful that this ruined place would mind another skeleton within it.

Another thing that I am cognizant of is the fact that there may be inhabitants already here in this place. They may be human or otherwise and they may not be pleased at my incursion. At any rate, I need to be prepared to defend myself if I can and flee to preserve myself if I must.

After walking past several rows of houses I spot one that appears to suit what I am looking for.

It is larger than most with three levels of windows marching in orderly rows down its sides. The roof looks sturdy and I see no sign of occupants. A large faded placard with words on it greets me and, although I can read fairly well, I have no idea what a motel is.

The word is strange – MOTEL.

Whatever it was it offers me a place to stay and I approach a door such as I have never seen before. Like the windows it is made of glass and has a frame of metal. A handle projects from the frame and I grasp it to pull.

The barrier resists at first and then opens with a terrible screech. Alarmed by this loud and unexpected announcement of that I have done I turn to see the horde that I expect to be charging me. Relief washes over me as I see only the deserted streets. Wasting no more time in the open, I hurry to enter the structure and watch in amazement as the door swings closed behind me before looking around.

The large room that I am in has many tables and chairs scattered around it. A smaller room, divided from the first by a structure such as in the shops in the district, is in one corner.

Beyond is a set of stairs and I carefully by pass these to search the rooms that I find down a hallway one at a time. The last thing that I need is to be surprised.

The rooms on one side of the hall are devastated. Walls are scorched and windows are blown inward. Furnishings are piled as though thrown against the wall furthest from the windows and I see evidence of partial collapse in these chambers.

On the other side of the hall the rooms are in much better shape.

I am walking down the darkened hall on the top floor after searching the lower levels when I accidently kick something that rolls a short distance while also stumbling over a number of sticks that are jumbled together and tangled in tattered cloth. 

I am pushing past yet another door when the sunlight coming through it illuminates the round object that had been kicked. A glance at it brings a shriek from me as I realize that the object is a human skull and that the sticks that I had almost fallen over must have been the rest of the skeleton.

The empty eye sockets glare at me accusingly and, as they bore into me, remind me that my own skeleton could end up populating one of these rooms. Perhaps someday some other traveler might kick my own skull accidently as they explore this place.

Once I am satisfied that I am alone in the building, except for birds that flutter incessantly from one place to another, I settle into a room that has a good view. From my sanctuary I can see a great deal of the way that I came from. If any pursuit appears I will have ample warning and a chance to prepare to fight or flee.

Movement in the room startles me and I look up to see two of the birds racing back and forth near the ceiling as they seek escape. My growling stomach gives me instructions and the creatures are soon being plucked and gutted, a piece of broken glass helping in this process. A trip across the hall provides me with a bare floor, the shredded floor covering nowhere close, where I can build a small fire. The remnants of shattered furniture provide fuel for the blaze and it is not long before my kills are roasting.

I am careful to restrain the size of the fire that I am using for two reasons. The first is that I do not wish to set my refuge ablaze, but more importantly I do not wish to advertise my presence here. Too much smoke escaping will alert others to the fact that someone has taken up residence.

The cooking meat smells wonderful and it is not long before it is being pulled from the fire to be transferred to a metal tray that I had found. I hurry to extinguish the fire by stamping it out before retreating back to my haven.

I notice a strange device next to the door and find that if I move it towards a protruding piece of metal on the barrier that it blocks the door from being opened. A small switch above the handle appears to help secure things.

Certain that I am safe from intrusion I settle down to eat. The meat is delicious but I know that I will need to find water. Both food and water are equally important and a priority.

My stomach closer to full I explore my surroundings. I settle onto a bed larger than any that I have ever seen, it would have filled the bedroom in my home. It is, even now, far more comfortable than anything that I have ever experienced. Clearly the accumulated dust will need to be shaken off but it represents a chance for a good rest.

Rising from the bed I walk to a doorway to peer into a dark and much smaller room. Clearly it is a place to bathe and relieve yourself. Some of the well to do back in the district have rooms like this in their homes and I was able to see one when I found a way into one of the homes for victors.

I approach the tub used for bathing and cautiously twist a knob. Immediately I jerk backwards as a horrible noise erupts from the pipe. As I rise from the floor where I landed I am stunned when filthy water begins to flow after much more of the noise.

It flows like this for a while until the stream gets cleaner and finally becomes clear. I approach it and run my hands under it as I marvel at this development. There is water available when I need it. 

Now if I only had something to fill with it. I twist the knob once again and turn off the stream before returning to the outer chamber. I approach the window to look out over what I can see. Surely one of these structures will have what I need to survive. I resolve to go exploring in the morning before I turn back to the bed to shake out the blanket.

As the sun goes down I settle into comfort such as I have never felt before. I am exhausted and it is not long before I am fast asleep. 

Right now the world is good, I have food easily available, water at hand and a secure place to sleep. I have no idea how much all of this will soon change.


	5. Ch. 05

Tessa struggles against the hold that I have on her hand and I look down at an increasingly irritated and tired child.

“It isn’t much farther, I promise. Mommy wants to find a place where you will be safe.”

She looks up at me with her vivid blue eyes before answering.

“Kay,” she responds.

We walk on until she stops again to look up at me. She’s tired and I bend down to scoop her up. Her blonde head settles onto my shoulder and I take care to make certain that her doll is secure in my pack. It would not do to drop it for I would be forced to retrace my steps to locate it for a frantic child. She has lost so much already and I do not want to deprive her of more.

When I finally arrive at my intended destination I cautiously approach it, almost expecting to be skewered by a shower of arrows. But this does not happen and I am able to breathe a sigh of relief. A door stands partially open and I slip into the structure while staying alert.

I find us in a very large room that is filled with scattered furniture. Everything is covered with a thick layer of dust that is disturbed only by small footprints. Animals have been here, but not recently. Shifting a sleeping child in my arms I continue my explorations and find several smaller rooms but nothing that is easily defendable. Closed pairs of steel doors prevent me from entering a pair of rooms.

Experience with elevators when I was in the Tribute Center in the Capitol makes me wonder if I am looking at the doors to some. Obviously since they likely do not have power to operate them the doors will not open to allow entry. Even if they could be convinced to open the elevators themselves would be even more obstinate. There is no doubt in my mind that I need to find stairs if I want to proceed to an upper floor.

As I walk Tessa, disturbed and awakened, opens her eyes to look up at me.

“I gotta potty.”

A discrete corner becomes a makeshift potty for her to utilize and I wait quietly for her to finish. While I am standing still my eyes are in constant motion. Every shadow is watched and analyzed for a threat.

They are also examined for a promise.

I notice small placards next to each door and see pictures. Perhaps one of these will indicate stairs and when my child is finished with her chore she hurries to my side.

“Tessa,” I say to her as a promising door catches my attention. “I want you to stay right here, don’t move, Mommy wants to go over there to look at something but you will be able to see me. Can you do that for me?”

She nods solemnly but brightens when her doll reappears and quietly settles down into a chair that I have righted.

I hurry to the partly open door and peer at the sign next to it. A drawn picture of stairs tells me that I am where I need to be. I turn back to my daughter and motion for her to come to me. It is not long before a three year old girl has rejoined her parent.

“We need to go through here and then up these stairs so Mommy can find a safe place for us to live.”

“Kay.”

I bend down, pick her up and soon am ascending the stairs to the next level. Thankfully there is light coming from an open door at the top of the staircase. We arrive where I want to be to see another large room encircled by doors leading to smaller spaces. Enormous windows that are devoid of glass tell me that this is not a safe place for an adventurous child.

A glance back the way that we had come from reveals another door that leads to stairs. These are quickly ascended and the next set is also used. It is only when we have arrived on the fifth level that I feel safe.

Huge and intact windows will allow me to see anything that is approaching as well as preventing my daughter from falling to her death. A door leading to another room stands open but at the moment I want to block the door that I used to get where I am. I have no desire to be attacked from behind.

Two chairs soon block the door preventing unwanted company. If anyone, or thing, tries to force the door open I will be alerted.

I leave that to find Tessa still waiting for me before venturing to the room that I had noticed.

We carefully enter to find two couches and a table inside it. A faucet and sink stand in one corner and I walk toward it to give the knobs an experimental, but not hopeful, twist.

Tessa recoils, as do I, as a loud series of noises emanates from the faucet. After a pause, water bursts out of the faucet, splattering out onto the floor. My amused child giggles as I get drenched during my efforts to turn off the localized deluge. I step away from it dripping water and then playfully flick some from my fingers at her. She squeals and bounces away causing me to smile.

“This, young lady, means that I can clean some of the grime off of you.”

She smiles, eyes aglow, at the thought that very soon her mother would be stripping her of clothes. Eager to begin, she hurries to me to allow the process to begin.

A piece of clothing from my pack becomes a washcloth and it is not long before my daughter is getting bathed as best as I can manage. She gasps at first as the sensation of cold water against her skin startles her and she gives me an accusing look.

“Sorry, Sunshine, Mommy doesn’t have any warm water for your bath.”

Tessa emits a low growl but endures the cold water. I am grateful, however, for this means that I will not need to search for the life preserving liquid. This supply, along with the iodine in my pack, will ensure that we do not run the risk of dehydration.

Now all that I need to do is to find food for us. I have included a small amount of food in my pack but I know that it will not last long. The fact that birds are common in the building gives me hope. These can be hunted and used to feed us.

Noticing the relaxation of my grip on her arm, Tessa darts free. Certain that she is safe, I allow her to run free while wondering if my own mother had allowed me to run naked after a bath. Probably she had, but it had no doubt been a brief respite from being clad.

Despite our being extremely poor she still had her pride and would not have want it said that she allowed her child to run naked.

“Stay over here, Mischief,” I say to her when she ventures too close to the door.

Her response is a giggle and smile as she moves closer to me, but not close enough to be grabbed. I know that she will tire of this soon enough and approach me to be cuddled. A chair beckons me and I collapse into it, only to be joined a minute or so later by my miniature me. I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly while also delivering a kiss to her forehead and a light swat to her backside.

She gives me a smile and kiss in return.

Both of us are safe for now. The spot that I have chosen offers me a good view of anything approaching. Anyone coming up the stairs will be met by a nasty response and hopefully will decide that the punishment that they are taking is not worth what they expect to gain.

We sit there for a short time before I dress her and settle a sleepy little girl down into the chair. I watch her for a while until she falls asleep and then I set out on an exploratory tour of this floor of the building. Joy fills me as I find a planter containing the remains of a long dead plant and a large number of smooth and rounded stones.

I remember seeing these sort of stones in planters in the Capitol during my time at the Tribute Center. They make excellent ammunition for a sling and it appears that, because there are several planters, I will be supplied for a long time.

A noise overhead catches my attention and I look up to see a bird, obviously disturbed by my sudden presence, flying back and forth as it seeks a way out of the building. It had no doubt come in through a hole up near the top of one of the windows and now wanted to escape, but I have no intention of allowing this to happen.

Waiting for it to pass by a solid and non-breakable wall I load one of the stones into my headband. Biding my time I prepare to strike and when the moment is right I cast the stone. Nearly frantic to escape, the bird flies into the stone and then drops limply to the floor. Walking forward, I pick up my kill to examine it. It is good sized but I will need more to feed two people. Noise from the floor above, and memories of seeing more broken windows, tells me that I will find more like it on the next level up.

Tessa is sound asleep and from experience I know that she will not wake for a while. This gives me time to both hunt and to ensure that our refuge is secure.

I walk quickly to the stairs leading to the level above. Clearly, from the noise that I can hear, there are a large number of the birds occupying my destination.

When I reach the top of the stairs I view the scene with apprehension. Although it is much like the floors below the large area in the center is divided into smaller areas by walls that go up to almost chest level. This is dangerous for it offers cover for anyone or thing that might wait in ambush.

As I survey the scene I note a pole from which tattered material hangs. I have seen flag poles before and recognize it for what it is.

It is also a readymade weapon to replace the staff that lays in the room where Tessa is sleeping. Sensing a sudden, an inexplicable, desire to protect myself I pull it from its holder. Moved for the first time in years the flag falls free from the staff due to its own weight. I am surprised by my weapon’s easy balance and move forward to stalk my prey.

I am soon rewarded with three plump birds and am preparing to return to my child when the noise of movement gets my attention. My senses warned, I turn to see a man emerging from one of the small enclosures. Two more emerge from the staircase leading to the next level up.

“Looks like the hunting trip paid off,” the first man growls as he appraises me. “She’s a pretty one too.”

“Maybe there’s more where she came from,” the second answered as he begins to advance only to be stopped by the third.

“Who are you, why are you here and where did you come from?” the man who is obviously the leader asks as he ignores the angry glares of his cohort.

“My name is Jessa Peaston and I’m traveling from District Nine. I only stopped to rest and didn’t know that this place was occupied. If you want me to I will leave.”

“No one travels from a district,” he answers. “I think that you did something that you shouldn’t have and are running. Who is with you? Tell the truth because we will find them and it won’t be pleasant when we do!”

Fear grips me for the first time as I think about the threat from this man. Tessa would be unable to put up any resistance. I don’t want to think about what they would do to her if they get past me and find her.

“I came alone.”

“You’re a trespasser, thief and a liar,” he snarls. “We saw you come in and we know that you have a kid with you. Boys,” he continues, “I think that it’s time that we teach her a lesson. Go down, find that kid, and bring back what is left when you get finished with it. Be sure to make it messy and noisy!”

Terrified at the thought of them harming or even killing my daughter I move back to get between them and the stairs down. My grip tightens on the flag pole as I prepare for what is coming while also checking out what they carry.

A heavy club is carried by the hand of the larger of the two. He is going to be a challenge but the smaller, and likely quicker of the two, carries a length of chain. This frightens me because it could pluck my weapon away from a distance and strike like a whip. He needs to be eliminated from long range. The leader wields an axe and will be a fearsome opponent.

But the life of my child is at stake.

Preparing for this fight, I watch as the two split up to make my job more difficult. But what they have really done is to give me an unexpected chance.

Abruptly the man with the club hurtles towards me, howling like a banshee as he does. A nearby chair on wheels allows me an obstacle as I shove it into his path when he is almost upon me.

He is falling over it as I note that the man with the chain is also coming at a dead run. I will need to deal with him soon enough but at the moment his partner has my attention.

A quick and hard flip of the pole staggers him as he takes the impact across his face. His head snaps back and he falls, arms and legs flailing, back in the same direction. His weapon, dropped as he falls, is seized and thrown hard at the face of the chainman.

As I expected, he dodges this and it sails harmlessly out of the building through an empty window frame. As he rounds the corner of a cubicle he lashes out with the chair and just misses me. As the links rattle when they pass over me I am reminded just how dangerous this is. Any hit scored by this weapon has the potential to severely injure if not kill me.

A second swing just misses me as the man that I have felled begins to stir once again. The chain is almost touching me as it passes again and, as he prepares to strike in an almost certain hit, the man exposes his vulnerable belly.

My head drops as I lunge with the sharpened point of the staff. It is almost as if in slow motion that this point strikes his abdomen, indents it and then pops through the skin almost audibly. He screams as he loses his grip on the chain and it flies beyond me. I shove again and he falls backward mortally wounded. Blood fountains outward as I pull the weapon back to deal with the man that I have already bested.

He swings a huge fist at my face and I manage to duck it but take the downward plunging elbow that hits me in the back and nearly floors me. Sensing victory he raises both hands above his head in preparation for a killing blow from the knife that he has drawn.

Facing death I do what I have to do, I strike out at his exposed groin.

He staggers backwards, the knife dropped and forgotten as he goes down. Seeing this second companion go down the leader begins to move towards me at a trot. The dropped knife becomes mine as the large man begins to recover and he only sees the metal flash as I slash outward at his throat. Honed to a fine edge, the blade does the job and my opponent falls back again, throat cut from ear to ear.

I can only fall back to dodge the axe that is swung at me with the intent of decapitating me. It passes my face and drags the pole from my grip. My weapon sails away and I do what I need to do. As the spiked end of the blade barely misses me I dive for the stairs going down.

Almost falling down the stairs I race in descent. I know that he will follow and turn briefly to hurl the knife at him. A loud howl of pain and a curse followed by the noise of the axe falling down the stairs tells me that I have injured him and at the moment he does not have his weapon. I can only hope that he does not send the knife at my retreating back.

A whistling sound tells me that he is doing just that and I lunge to one side as the knife shoots past me. It clatters to the floor at the bottom and I race past it while drawing a stone from my pocket and pulling my headband free. Hoping that I can score a hit I drop the stone into the cloth and whirl to prepare as he emerges, axe at the ready.

“I’m going to kill you, bitch! But before I do that I’m going to make certain that you watch me kill your kid!”

He is beginning to race towards me when the stone is launched. It strikes him between the eyes and he collapses into a heap before he begins violent trembling that ends when I cut his throat with the recovered knife. I move away from this latest corpse as I understand that if they were part of a larger group that I have made myself into a target. To buy time I need to dispose of the bodies so that they won’t be discovered quickly.

This man is seized and dragged into a darkened bathroom. I push him clear of the door and then pull the barrier shut. A chair is pulled over the pool of blood on the floor.

Knowing that I cannot stop I hurry back up the stairs to grab the larger man and begin to pull him towards the same barren window that his club vanished through. I am breathing hard and trembling when I finally get him there. Sick about what I must do, but knowing that Tessa’s safety depends upon doing this, I shove the corpse out into space.

The chainman follows him a short time later to crash into the thick brush at the bottom. I send the chair after its owner before gathering the birds that I had dropped and the pole that I had lost. Clearly Tessa and I cannot stay here and I rush down to the room where she is still sleeping.

She is still sleeping when I hurry from the building with her in my arms and our belongings hastily packed. I had been thorough, I needed to be, when I had packed our things and made certain that nothing had been left behind. With any luck if would be a long while before any of them were found and hopefully we would have secured a new refuge where we would not be discovered.

Deep within the Capitol the technician acknowledged that another timeline had at last been certified as being correct. Jessa Peaston was not present there, nor had she been for a very long time. The last that had been seen of her had been when she was boarding the train to the Capitol as a tribute.

 _‘Where are you?’_ he wondered. _‘Where are you and when are you going to turn up?’_

**Author's Note:**

> Due to a major life event my attentions are being drawn back to home. Therefore this story is being put on an indefinite hiatus. I have no idea how long this will be as the situation is going to eat a lot of time.
> 
> evilotter
> 
> 3-8-2021


End file.
